


procella.

by orphxus (impxria)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impxria/pseuds/orphxus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">the rain keeps falling wherever we are.</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	procella.

**Author's Note:**

> [ { please listen. }](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wKmtP-2f4w)

**i**. 

Akaashi doesn’t know what to think of you in the beginning.

He first sees you standing in the rain. No umbrella in hand, no desire to seek shelter. You only stand there, mesmerized eyes watching as the droplets trail down. He does a double-take at first-- because surely no one would simply just stand there, right?

It feels as if he’s watching a scene from a movie. It’s a beautiful sight-- a lone stranger standing amidst the gentle downpour, strands of hair clinging to your face, clothes drenched and sticking to your skin. But this is real life, he reminds himself, and for someone to do this-- 

He shakes his head.

“You’re going to get sick.”

A disinterested voice comes in and you laugh.

“I’m well aware of that.”

Akaashi stands there, brows slightly furrowed at your response. He contemplates leaving you be; if you’re aware of what you’re doing, then what need is there for him to stick around? But something doesn’t allow him to go-- instead, he holds the umbrella over you without reluctance, silently pondering why he never bothered getting a bigger one. Bokuto often forgets his umbrella, anyway-- he frowns just thinking about the stormy days where they both ended up drenched because they couldn’t fit under it.

While he has no problem with sharing, this umbrella is too small for both of you. So he’ll let you have it.

You’re too thrown off by the gesture to even refuse and before you know it, it’s in your hands.

Now he’s the one getting drenched.

“You’re going to get sick.” You point out in a teasing tone, stifling a quiet laugh as you quickly cover him with the umbrella. “And this umbrella is tiny, by the way.”

Akaashi still doesn’t understand what happens. From finding someone in the rain to trying to offer his umbrella to suddenly being huddled up with them, hiding from the poor weather--

He prays Bokuto doesn’t see this.

But if there’s one thing he understands, it’s that you love the rain.

**ii**. 

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you love it so much?”

He understands liking storms and falling asleep to droplets hitting your window; the one thing he doesn’t get, however, is actually just getting drenched in the rain. He keeps running into you-- whether it be at school or at the park, and most of the time, your hair is damp, water falling from your fingertips.

“Think about it,” you begin, pitch slightly higher than usual when a flicker of excitement reaches your eyes, “it’s the reason why you can see those trees over there or those flowers by the school gym. It’s the reason why kids go outside and jump in the puddles-- it’s all these little things the rain does that brings happiness. And it just feels nice.” 

He almost chuckles at the last part and you just shoot him a goofy smile.

Akaashi doesn’t like the rain. It makes the sky dreary and the clouds gloomy. The day goes by slowly when it pours and he can’t seem to find any solace from it. But when you speak of it, he reconsiders.

He begins to enjoy the rain.

**iii**.

You remind him of a storm. Brilliant, beautiful, and frightening.

Brilliant because your mind works in wondrous ways. Because you speak with such passion and knowledge that he can’t help but listen to each and every word; your daily rambles and conversations are challenging to the mind yet understandable in strange ways that he can’t seem to figure out. 

Beautiful because of your smiles and laughter. Because you find humor in the weirdest things that he doesn’t really get but finds himself amused because of your reaction. Because your smiles are infectious and he can’t imagine not seeing them.

Frightening because he will never be able to truly understand his feelings towards you. Because falling for you has been anything but a gradual process, and if he thinks about it, he wonders if it started from the moment he first saw you. It wasn't love at first sight, but he knows that he felt something towards you-- intrigue, curiosity-- just the need to know more about you.

 **.     .     .**

It’s quiet.

You sit on the porch steps, indulging in the sun’s warmth.

Things have been a bit different, a little strange. Conversations seem to lack that liveliness and he knows you’re holding something back. You’ve been zoning out, staring blankly at him before he gathers your attention once more.

He doesn’t do anything about it. When you want to talk, then you’ll talk. He knows this.

“Akaashi,” you speak up, “did you know that I like you?”

He did know.

But he can’t help that sense of relief that comes when it’s confirmed.

“Do you like me as much as you like the rain?”

Your laughter makes him smile.

“Maybe.”

**iv**.

Movies hardly portray anything correctly; it’s all too romanticized for his taste.

This is something he’s seen and heard about too many times to believe that it’d ever really happen. The rain is coming down hard and you’re both huddled under his umbrella (don’t worry, he’s gotten a bigger one for the both of you now). And you stand outside your home, waiting for the other to say their goodbyes.

But it’s one of those quiet moments where eyes express everything, and the next thing he knows, you’re smiling at him.

“Are you going to kiss me in the rain?”

He almost makes a weird noise.

“--Cause I’d really like that.”

“Your two favorite things together.” He points out absentmindedly.

“I never said you were my favorite.”

His lips curve and he finds it silly, but he puts down the umbrella and kisses you.

**v**.

Storms are fleeting. They come and go as much as they please.

He sits on the porch steps like he always did with you. But this time, you are not with him.

You’ve been gone for years now. He doesn’t know where you went or how you are, but sometimes, he waits for the moment he can relive your first meeting. But it won’t happen. He understands this.

He misses you. He misses all the memories you’ve made-- between the peaceful moments of sitting outside and enjoying the weather to the cheesy ones that had you smiling against his lips whenever he kissed you in the rain.

He will never forget you. And it’s not as if he wants to-- you were a part of his life that he’ll cherish.

But because when it rains, it reminds him of you all over again.

( you’re part of the rain now. )


End file.
